I have pink and white skin today, though not in the way Anne of Green Gables would describe it. Mine is the result of bad math: too much sun, too little sunscreen.
I spent pretty much all day at the beach near Perissa today. It's the one place in Greece with perfect beaches, sandy instead of rocky. The beach is made of black sand.
I tried to be so careful. I take after the Northern Europeans in my ancestry when it comes to my relationship with the sun, so I stayed under an umbrella most of the time, even shifting around to keep as much person as possible in the shade. The result is a toasty right thigh, two burned shins/knees and a wee bit of redneckedness happening. It hurts, but could be much worse.
I debated this morning going on a boat tour to the volcano. I love boats, and it sounded reasonably interesting, but I just wasn't that excited about it. So I roasted on the spit instead, occasionally marinating myself in the sea. It was actually kind of chilly for much of the day; a stiff breeze accompanied the waves. This is partly why I was surprised to discover I was sunburned. Yes, I know that's stupid.
I successfully navigated my way back to Karterados, where my hotel is, thanks to a guy on bus yelling, "Karterados! Karterados!" and thinking in my sun-drenched haze that those buildings look familiar. Public transit is a source of great angst for me when I travel. I'm so unaccustomed to it, living in the smaller, personal vehicle-oriented cities I always have. I've never actually taken a subway in the U.S.
My leg is on fire! Drat my ancestors and their pallor.
I went down to the old port tonight. It's something like 700 steps. These guys seem fit.
The sun setting over Thirasia and the volcano.